


The Role Chaos Plays

by lizzieonawhim



Series: A Tangential Narrative [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ...I really don't know where the Hanahaki's tag went you guys, Angst, M/M, Trope Subversion, hanahaki's, this trope was wildly popular for a little while there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 10:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12703326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizzieonawhim/pseuds/lizzieonawhim
Summary: Lance woke to the familiar sensation of fingers carding gently through his hair. It could have been any of a thousand mornings, and for a moment, memory was like molasses. A whisper of a thought told him that he was forgetting something, something big, and that when he remembered, it would change everything. The whisper was a warning, but Lance ignored it, because now that he’d realized it, he had toknow.“I know you’re awake,” a familiar voice said hoarsely, and just like that, Lance remembered.Lance wakes up in Keith's hospital room. They talk. Sequel to If I Didn't Have You (Someone Else Would Surely Do)





	The Role Chaos Plays

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for hospital stuff, a bit of coughing up petals (though I tried not to go into detail because that's not really the point of this fic), and general angst and sadness. Look guys, I made it Worse

Lance woke to the familiar sensation of fingers carding gently through his hair. It could have been any of a thousand mornings, and for a moment, memory was like molasses. A whisper of a thought told him that he was forgetting something, something big, and that when he remembered, it would change everything. The whisper was a warning, but Lance ignored it, because now that he’d realized it, he had to _know._

“I know you’re awake,” a familiar voice said hoarsely, and just like that, Lance remembered. He blinked his eyes open and squinted up at a smiling Keith, sitting propped up in the hospital bed with Lance’s head in his lap. He was paler than usual, but his eyes were as sharp and lively as ever. For a moment Lance could almost believe that it had been a mistake, that they really were soulmates and Keith didn’t have Hanahaki’s and all of this was just a big misunderstanding. Then Keith turned his head to cough into a small paper bag, shattering the illusion.

“I love you,” Lance blurted when he had finished, just in case. They’d said it before, but maybe -- maybe --

Keith gave him a look filled with immeasurable sadness. “I know,” he said softly.

The door opened. “Wha -- who are you? What are you doing?” said an indignant woman’s voice. “You’re not supposed to be in here.” Lance sat up, wincing as his back and neck protested movement after so long in such a strange posture, and turned to see that a nurse in blue scrubs had entered the room, clipboard in hand, and was now glaring fiercely at him. Lance opened his mouth to say he was just leaving.

“Let him stay,” said Keith quickly, before Lance could manage a syllable. “Please?”

This gave the nurse pause. “This your soulmate?” she asked, uncertain. Lance’s gut twisted.

“He’s my b -- husband,” said Keith. Lance felt his gut twist with longing at the lie; they hadn’t talked about it yet, but... “I want him here. Please.”

The nurse’s face softened as she took in what Keith wasn’t saying. “Oh,” she said. “Well, of -- of course. I’d imagine you two have quite a lot to talk about. Just don’t stay too long, he needs to rest before his procedure. I’ll be back in ten minutes.” With that, she was gone. Lance looked at Keith.

“Procedure?” Keith nodded. Lance felt a jolt of fear. “Keith, every time someone has tried to cure Hanahaki’s without--”

“The patient ended up dead, I know,” Keith said. “But what else am I supposed to do?”

“If you would just tell me who--”

“No,” Keith said firmly. “He doesn’t know. I want to keep it that way. None of this is his fault.”

“Not his--”

“Besides,” Keith interrupted, “we talked. I don’t love him either.” They were quiet for a moment; Keith broke it. “I haven’t seen you since I was admitted.” Lance looked away, feeling small and selfish. “I missed you.”

“I--” Lance swallowed. “I’m sorry, I just…” he gestured helplessly, looking for the right words to explain why he hadn’t come, then drooped. “I’m a coward. I’m sorry.”

Keith shrugged and stared at his lap. “I get it. It just kinda sucked on my end. I--” He was interrupted by another coughing fit. Lance instinctively reached for him, one hand on his arm as the other helped steady the paper bag. When the coughs subsided, Keith continued, “I thought maybe you -- with us not being soulmates, maybe…” He trailed off, jaw and fists clenched, eyes squeezed shut. Lance’s heart sank as he realized what Keith must have thought -- how he must have felt, being rejected by his soulmate and his boyfriend one right after the other.

“Oh no,” he breathed, scooting his chair closer to the head of the bed. “No no no, Keith, of course not, I would never -- no. I love you. I’ll always love you. I-I’m so sorry. I swear it won’t ever happen again.” He took Keith’s hand and squeezed. Keith squeezed back, clutching as if Lance was a lifeline.

“I’m scared, Lance,” Keith whispered.

Lance swallowed. “M-me too.”

“I don’t want to die.”

Lance had nothing to say to that, so instead he lifted Keith’s hand to his mouth and kissed it, in an echo of what he had done the previous night while Keith was sleeping. Keith’s shoulders went tense, and Lance knew what that meant, so he reached out and pulled him in close, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend in a hug they both needed badly.

Another coughing fit forced them apart. Lance rubbed Keith’s back as he coughed into the bag again, hating the helplessness that rose up to choke him. “This isn’t fair,” he said when the coughing had subsided. “You--”

“Stop,” Keith said hoarsely. “Just -- don’t, okay? I can’t -- I can’t deal with that right now.” He set the bag down in his lap; a couple petals spilled out, blood red against the white hospital sheets. They both stared at them in silence.

“When is the procedure?” Lance asked.

“This afternoon.”

Lance felt a pang of fear. “So soon?”

“The doctors say it has a better chance of working if they do it now than if they wait.”

Lance bit his lip, but nodded reluctantly; that made sense. He reached for Keith’s hand again, only for Keith to pull it away.

“Lance, you -- you shouldn’t be here,” Keith said. Lance made a protesting noise. “They -- nobody knows how this thing spreads.”

“I don’t--”

“I care,” Keith insisted fiercely. “Lance, I’m dying, okay? I -- I’m practically already dead.” He swallowed hard. “But you -- you’re still alive. You haven’t even met your soulmate yet -- your _real_ soulmate.”

“I don’t want to meet my--”

“But you will,” Keith said. “You will. Everyone does. And if there’s a chance it might work out for you…” he swallowed. “You -- you have to take it. Whether… whether I’m still around or not.” Lance stared at him, frozen in shock. For a moment, he couldn’t speak.

“Keith.” His voice broke on the word. “Keith, you can’t--”

“We’re not soulmates, Lance.” Lance felt the words in his gut. Keith looked calm. For the first time in years, Lance couldn’t read him. “You -- you deserve better than a fake.”

“But I don’t want better, Keith, I want _you,_ ” Lance said desperately, leaning forward in his chair as if he could close the distance opening up between them. For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of emotion in Keith’s violet eyes, a brief sign of the Keith that Lance had come to know. Then Keith shook his head.

“You don’t know what you’re saying. They’re your _soulmate,_ Lance.”

“Yeah, so what? You don’t love _your_ soulmate.” Lance’s heart raced. He felt a lump rise in his throat. “Keith, please, don’t do this.”

An awful silence passed; then: “I’m sorry.”

The phrase fell like a stone into the quiet of the room. Lance felt as though the world was tilting sideways as he stared at Keith and Keith stared down at his lap, where the paper bag still sat. A small scattering of rose petals spilled out, stark red against the white sheets. There was a knock, and the door opened.

“Excuse me,” said the nurse from before. “I’m sorry, but you really need to leave. Mr. Kogane needs his rest.”

It took Lance a moment to remember how to speak. “O-of course,” he said. He tried to think of something else to say -- _I’m sorry,_ except he wasn’t; _I love you,_ except it wouldn’t help -- and came up blank. “I… yeah. Okay.” Keith still wasn’t looking up. Lance couldn’t bring himself to say goodbye, so instead he gave a jerky nod and followed the nurse out of the room.


End file.
